


part time lover, full time friend

by buckybarnes



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Cam taking care of Brandon's cranky ass, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-07 01:11:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11048187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybarnes/pseuds/buckybarnes
Summary: Cam: get well soon bro!! Might have to give u a hand with a couple things when u get back in town





	part time lover, full time friend

**Author's Note:**

> brandon: has surgery on his wrist  
> my brain, immediately: this
> 
> thank you to the twitter gang for inspiring/encouraging/enabling this <3
> 
> i threw this together pretty quick so i apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors!
> 
> title is from anyone else but you by the moldy peaches

Surgery ends up being the best option. It takes a month of Brandon trying to convince himself that the pain will go away on its own before he gives in and the next thing he knows he's being shipped out to Vancouver. Like there aren't doctors in Columbus.  
  
The surgery goes well; Brandon spends Monday night in his hospital room watching the first game of the finals, occasionally shouting obscenities at the television when the officials make a particularly bad call. He shoots Joey a quick text about how his team's getting fucked over, and scrolls through his other messages while he's at it.  
  
It's mostly basic, “ _get well soon!_ ” messages from friends, a couple from his teammates. Nick's message sounds like a bad motivational speaker; the guy calls Brandon “champ”, because Nick insists on being everyone's dad even though Brandon's older than him. There's a text from Cam, too, and he taps it open.  
  
Cam: get well soon bro!! Might have to give u a hand with a couple things when u get back in town  
  
Brandon smiles at the text. Cam's nice.  
  
Brandon yawns. It's barely 11:00 PM, but the surgery had really taken it out of him and he has an early flight back to Columbus in the morning. He clicks the television off, muttering a few more insults about the city of Pittsburgh, and sets his phone on the bedside table. He's asleep in seconds.  
  
\---  
  
Cam comes to pick Brandon up from the airport when he lands in Columbus because honestly, what are friends for? Cam's dressed inconspicuously, although there's really no reason for it; aside from the time when a woman tackled Zach in a Target, they don't get recognized much. Cam's grinning at Brandon, baseball cap pulled over his curls.  
  
“Good to see you, man,” Cam says, awkwardly half-embracing him in what was probably supposed to be a hug. “Oh, let me get that,” Cam adds, grabbing Brandon's bag out of his hand.  
  
Brandon rolls his eyes. “You don't have to do that,” he mutters. “I still have one working hand.”

Cam shrugs happily. “It's my job to take care of you. And I take my job seriously,” he adds, raising his eyebrows for emphasis.  
  
Brandon isn’t sure when Cam decided that taking care of Brandon was his job, but he follows Cam out to his car nonetheless.

Cam drives them to Brandon's place, wailing along to whatever awful pop song comes on the radio. Brandon winces and cranks down the volume on Miley Cyrus, and Cam feigns a look of hurt.

“So,” Brandon says conversationally, “you really don’t have to help me with much. I can manage on my own.”

Cam looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “Brandon, I really don’t care. I don’t have anything going on. I want to help you.” He smiles and reaches over to pat Brandon’s thigh.

Brandon really hopes Cam didn’t notice the way he jumped.

\---

Cam helps Brandon with little things: going to the store, cleaning up around the house, cooking dinner. It’s all disgustingly domestic. As much as Brandon complains about not needing any help, it’s really nice having Cam around.

One night, after Brandon had scarfed down the pasta that Cam had insisted on cooking for him - _really, Brandon, you eat too much junk_ \- Brandon asks Cam to stay over and hang out. Why not? It’s not like either of them have anything else going on. Cam beams and almost skips over to the couch, beating Brandon to the remote.

 _Spider-Man_ is on, and Cam and Brandon end up in a heated debate of Maguire versus Garfield. Brandon doesn’t have much preference, really - superhero movies aren’t really his thing - but he likes the way Cam’s face scrunches up when he argues, his cheeks turning pink and flushed.

Brandon concedes eventually, and Cam crosses his arm in an I-told-you-so gesture. And then Cam literally fucking _tackles_ him, leaning over him on the couch and carefully avoiding Brandon’s hand.

“I really win at everything, huh,” Cam says smugly.

Normally Brandon would retort. _You don’t win at being more than three feet tall, Cam._ But right now a lot of Cam’s skin is pressing against Brandon and it’s taking all he’s got to remember how to breathe correctly.

Brandon is not sixteen years old. But the thing is it’s been _weeks_ since he got off. Since before the surgery. He can’t exactly do it himself, and it’s not like he’s seeing anyone. And it’s not any secret that he’s attracted to Cam; who wouldn’t be, Cam’s _gorgeous._ He’s staring at Brandon, wide-eyed, and he’s not really smiling anymore. Brandon’s starting to chub up a bit and it probably wouldn’t be noticeable if Cam’s fucking _hips_ weren’t pressing into him.

“Hey,” Cam says softly. Alright, Brandon thinks. This is where he tells me that I’m weird and then he leaves and he never cooks me pasta or watches _Spider-Man_ with me ever again.

“Sorry,” Brandon mutters, doing his best to avoid eye contact. “It’s just been a long time and -”

“It’s okay, Brandon,” Cam interrupts, his voice still quiet. He still hasn’t moved from where he’s plastered on top of Brandon. “I was thinking, maybe, uh… I could help you?” His voice goes up at the end, slightly, like he’s hopeful.

“Help me?” Brandon echoes. What the fuck? What’s Cam going to do, jerk him off?

“Yeah,” Cam says quickly. “I mean, I’ve been helping you with the other stuff, the dinner and the shopping and everything, so maybe I could just…” And then Cam, because he’s twelve years old, makes the jerking off motion with his hand.

Brandon’s mouth has gone totally dry. “You don’t have to,” he says weakly, and Cam smiles at him again, bright and genuine.

“I want to,” Cam says, so okay, they’re doing this.

Cam slides Brandon’s sweats down slowly. He keeps his eyes fixed on Brandon’s face the whole time and God, Brandon really wishes he wouldn’t. Brandon bites his lip and looks up.

When Cam finally gets Brandon’s dick out, the cold air is jarring, and Brandon shivers. He’s hard already, embarrassingly, because just the thought of Cam’s hand on him had made him start leaking in his pants like a teenager. Brandon swears he sees Cam smirk.

Cam just holds Brandon’s dick in his hand for a few moments until Brandon honest-to-God _whines_. He blushes deep red and Cam smiles up at him.

He goes slowly at first, occasionally squeezing Brandon’s cock experimentally. He glances up every so often to see how Brandon is responding. Brandon, to his credit, is hanging in there pretty well, keeping any noises to a minimum.

Cam seems to take that as a personal challenge. He speeds up his pace, tightening his grip just the way Brandon likes it. Brandon clutches the arm of the couch with his good hand until his knuckles go white.

He doesn’t last much longer after that. Brandon knows that it’s a little pathetic, but it’s been weeks and Cam is looking at him like it’s his life’s mission to make Brandon happy. Brandon comes with a sound that’s mostly nonsense, although Cam’s name might’ve been in there somewhere.

Cam looks pleased with himself. He takes a moment to admire his handiwork, running his hand lazily over Brandon’s chest. Then he grins and jumps up from the couch.

“Don’t move,” he says from over his shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

Brandon leans back into the couch and sighs. He tries processing what just happened, but mostly he just wants to sleep. He’s dozing off when Cam smacks him in the face with a damp washcloth.

“Clean yourself off, I do your laundry,” Cam says, trying his best to sound annoyed, but mostly he just sounds endeared. Brandon wipes himself down as best he can.

“Come on, bed,” Cam says when Brandon starts dozing again. He goes to help Brandon stand, but Brandon smacks him away.

“Both of my _legs_ work, Cam,” Brandon mutters, and Cam doesn’t even try to hide his smile.

Brandon flops down on the mattress with a soft groan. Cam stands there for a moment, rocking back on his heels like he’s unsure what to do. Brandon cracks one eye open.

“You can stay, Cam,” he mumbles.

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to impose,” Cam tries, but he doesn’t sound like he means it.

Brandon groans again and rolls over to the side of the bed to make more room and pats at the mattress. Cam nearly dives into the bed and opts to press himself as close as physically possible to Brandon.

“I’m a cuddler,” Cam warns, and Brandon snorts. He’s out like a light.

\---

Cam starts staying over more nights than not. He also starts getting Brandon off more nights than not.

He sticks to handjobs the first couple of times, but one evening, while they’re waiting for the pizza they had ordered to arrive because sometimes Cam indulges Brandon’s bad habits, Cam sinks to his knees between Brandon’s thighs and changes Brandon’s whole world.

Brandon feels guilty. Cam’s getting Brandon off as a favor, but it’s starting to feel like more than that. Brandon already knew that he liked Cam, and Cam sucking his dick every night is only making it worse.

He thinks about telling Cam to stop. It would make things awkward, though, and Brandon doesn’t think he could handle it if Cam stopped coming around. His life is about 90% Cam at this point.

So Brandon lets Cam suck him off in his bed - _their_ bed, at this point - and avoids blurting out any confessions of love when he comes. After, when Cam curls up on Brandon’s chest, Brandon tries his best to be discrete about the kiss that he presses into Cam’s hair.

\---

Brandon is woken up way too early by a 180-pound chipmunk staring down at him.

“Morning,” Cam says cheerily.

“What time is it,” Brandon grumbles, throwing a hand over his eyes. He coughs a bit. Cam is cute but his morning breath is not.

“About 9:00,” Cam informs him. “Come on, breakfast.”

“Just make something,” Brandon says, trying to toss Cam off. “You know what I like.”

“ _No,_ ” Cam whines, smacking him. “We’re making breakfast _together_. You really need to learn how to cook, Brandon. Plus, if you’re a good student, there might be something else in it for you.” Cam waggles his eyebrows in a way that’s probably supposed to be sexual, but it’s mostly just goofy. It gets Brandon on board nevertheless.

“Alright, well, if you put it that way,” Brandon mutters, and Cam grins. He dashes out of bed and Brandon follows, albeit much slower.

Breakfast is mostly a disaster. Brandon tries to flip the pancakes too soon and gets batter everywhere, and after that Cam resigns him to toast duty. Cam’s trying his best to feign exasperation, but most of the time he’s just looking at Brandon with hearts in his eyes.

The food ends up being decent enough once Cam fixes all of Brandon’s mistakes. Cam gets syrup on his chin and Brandon, without thinking, leans over the table to wipe it off with his thumb.

Cam makes Brandon wash the dishes, and Brandon’s only about halfway through when Cam starts pressing against his back. Brandon shuts off the water and spins around so they’re facing each other.

“Cam,” Brandon starts.

“I know, you sucked at breakfast but here I am, rewarding bad behavior,” Cam grins, starting to go for Brandon’s waistband. Brandon grabs his hand gently, stopping him.

“What?” Cam says, confused.

“I, uh,” Brandon coughs. “I really appreciate it, Cam. Everything. I just… I don’t want you doing stuff like this because you feel obligated. You know? You don’t have to."

Cam stares at him for a long moment. And then he smacks Brandon on the shoulder.

“ _Obligated?_ Seriously, Brandon, you think I feel _obligated_ to suck your dick?” Cam looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “Brandon, I do this because I like it. Because I like _you._ And because I like your dick,” he adds.

“I just - I want this to be more than some favor you’re doing for me,” Brandon mutters. “I want us to be more than that.” He says the last part so quickly that he thinks maybe Cam doesn’t hear it.

Cam just looks at him for what seems like forever. Brandon feels like running out of his own house.

“Brandon,” Cam says slowly, carefully. “Are you saying that you want to date me? Because you kind of already are.”

Brandon looks completely lost.

“We eat dinner together, we spend pretty much every day together, we sleep in the same bed,” Cam continues. “And that’s not even including the dick stuff.”

“So… you’re saying you would want to? Date me, I mean?” Brandon says helplessly.

Cam laughs and Brandon thinks it’s the best thing he’s ever heard. And the next thing he knows, Cam’s leaning up on the very tips of his toes and kissing Brandon, soft and sweet. It’s kind of amazing.

He pulls back after a few moments and Brandon’s sure that he looks completely dopey. He doesn’t really care.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” Cam says, smoothing his hands down Brandon’s chest, “I was really planning to blow my boyfriend against his kitchen counter, even though he’s shit at pancakes.”

Brandon is so in love with this man.

\---

It’s the end of August before Brandon’s allowed to use his hand normally again. He figures he has to make up for lost time.

So when Cam’s out for the day, over at Nick’s house visiting the baby, Brandon tries his hand at pasta. All he really has to do is boil water and reheat the sauce that Cam made a couple nights ago, but it still feels like a victory when nothing catches fire.

He’s scooping the pasta onto plates when he hears the front door open.

“Brandon?” Cam calls from the living room.

“I’m in the kitchen,” Brandon calls back. He glances over his shoulder and smiles at Cam, who is grinning ear to ear.

“You made _dinner_?” Cam sounds absolutely delighted. “And you didn’t burn anything!”

“It’s not that impressive,” Brandon mutters, but Cam still looks completely enamored.

“I’m proud of you,” Cam says, and Brandon wants to roll his eyes, but Cam is so genuine. He’s proud of Brandon for everything, loves him for everything.

They eat the pasta on the couch, trying their best to not spill anything as they tease and shove each other. They end up holding hands, because Brandon’s kind of a sappy guy when he’s in love. The pasta wasn’t really supposed to be the main event, though. He clears his throat and Cam glances over.

“After dinner, I thought maybe you could fuck me,” Brandon says casually.

Cam nearly chokes on a piece of pasta. “Uh, yeah, that sounds like a good plan,” he says hoarsely.

Cam probably sets a new world record for how fast he finishes his dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> [follow me on twitter!](http://twitter.com/stantiers)


End file.
